FA: ~Dead_Monsoon
Discord & Telegram: mobydawuf
Hypnovember 2020, day 19: Hacked(Protogen TF/TG)
Themes: reprogramming / mindwipe
Word count: 3,280
Commissioned by: ~P1xu5
  ———————————————————————————

Elijah strolls through a bustling mall, lost in thought. He’s been running low on stuff to really occupy himself with lately… thirsting for something greater, perhaps. Just when he starts to think about heading home, he spots something of interest: a store he’s never heard of before. Xipu’s Games of the Future? Hm... he’s definitely heard about stuff like VR and AR becoming a craze recently... might that be something worth looking into?

He shrugs and proceeds through its doors before he can change his mind. He’s greeted by a spacious room chock full of shelves and product-trialing booths, showcasing various consoles and peripherals. About a dozen people are scattered throughout, wearing headsets and decked out with gear, waving and swatting at things only they can see. He can’t help but wonder how immersive an experience it must be...?

The place is so crowded that he struggles to pinpoint any actual employees. In fact, somehow one manages to find him first!

“Congratulations, sir!” He jolts at the exclamation, as well as the paw that suddenly grips his shoulder. He turns to see a rather curious female creature that somewhat resembles some sort of exotic fluffy feline, with maroon and cream colored fur and curious looking black plating throughout her body, including a mask over her eyes. As soon as he gets over his shock he’s surprised again to find that the employee is very short! She had to reach as far as her arm could go to even grab his shoulder.

“You’re the 1000th person to visit our establishment since its recent grand opening. That makes you eligible for a free trial of one of our most ambitious, cutting-edge products yet!”

“O-Oh... seriously?” Eli blushes, still a little dazed. 

“That’s right! We at Xipu’s have take it upon ourselves to try our hand at manufacturing. Our commitment to the future of gaming has evolved into something quite extraordinary, and we decided we want to do more than just distribute and promote... we want in on the action! And you can be a big part of making that happen! You would like to take us up on it, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh, umm... yeah, I don’t see why not! I was already gonna look for something... new and exciting, I guess.”

“Wonderful! I assure you, we can offer that in droves. Just come along with me!” She gleefully guides Eli to the back of the vast room, toward a door labelled “Private”. Eli follows along, curious about what this cutting-edge new product could be. His perky guide opens the door and ushers him through.

They emerge into some sort of industrial looking area, almost as spacious as the main room but without a single soul occupying it. Instead, all manner of machinery occupies the dank, dusty layout… presumably prototypes in the works? This all feels just a little shady to Eli, but at the same time he can’t help his excitement at the idea of getting an exclusive preview of never before seen innovations in gaming. So he allows the mysterious employee to guide him over to a large round podium, above which a ton of black wires are suspended. Must be a serious amount of performance for this prototype!

Once he’s settled into place, the employee reaches into a large storage compartment and pulls out a peculiar little object… some sort of pointy, glossy black visor. It has two small round screens on its sides, each with an angular metal prong sticking out on top, much like horns… or perhaps ears. She holds it up toward him cheerfully, the implication quite obvious. He takes it gingerly, and slips it on over his face, plunging himself into total darkness. It fits quite snugly, and despite having no apparent straps or adhesives, it doesn’t seem prone to slipping off.

“Good, good… just stay nice and still for me, m’kay? The system’s going to need a few moments to get calibrated.”

“O-Okay...” comes his muffled reply, fidgeting the visor around his scalp to get it properly in place. It’s lighter than it looks, but still weighs on his head slightly. He stands there patiently, listening to faint keyboard clacks nearby. His mind begins to race. This sure is shaping up to be one hell of an immersive experience... “S-So... should I have, like... controllers?”

“Hmm? No no, that won’t be necessary. All we’re going to need is your body~”

Abruptly, with a hissing sound, he feels the visor clamping down tightly on his face. Eli jolts in surprise, more than a little confused. He reaches up nervously, finding that it now refuses to budge even an inch. “Uhhmm... i-is this really necessary? It’s k-kinda tight...”

“Oh, it’s very necessary! You’ll understand soon enough. Please, remain still.”

After a few seconds of pitch black, something finally appears in his vision; “LOADING PROTOGENERATOR.EXE...”, with an accompanying progress bar beneath. Interesting name... he watches the bar slowly crawl its way across his vision, anticipation welling up. What sort of experience is he in for...?

“LOADING COMPLETE. RUNNING PROTOGENERATOR.EXE. NEUTRALIZING SUBJECT.”

“W-Wait... wh-what do you mean subj-MMPH!”

Without warning, something brusquely shoves its way into Eli’s mouth! The pressure on his face also redoubles still further, the visor’s soft interior pressing firmly against his skin. This is clearly no mere gaming console…!

He pries desperately at the helmet, with less than a little luck. He then tries to make a run for it, not entirely sure how he intends to get to safety without being able to see his surroundings, but a multitude of cold, metallic arms lunges from out of nowhere to grab his limbs, saving him the trouble.

“MMMMPH! MMM...!” No amount of straining and wiggling gets him free from the machine’s grasp, which forces him to stand perfectly still as more and more circuitry and machinery seems to awaken around him. He has a very, very bad feeling...

“SUBJECT NEUTRALIZED. INITIATING CONVERSION.”

“CMMVMPHMM?!” 

Just then, he feels his clothes being yanked off, followed by several pieces of cold metal pressed onto his body! He jolts in shock and squirms against his restraints in vain as the upper portion of his torso is enveloped by machinery, as well as his waist and upper legs. Two pair of smooth black panels are attached, one on his shoulders and one on his haunches. Already they flicker with unsteady light as they gradually assimilate their way into his body. He can feel the circuitry and parts settling their way onto the surface of his body, potentially never to come off again.

“PHYSICAL COVERSION INITIATED. NOW ACCESSING SUBJECT MAINFRAME.”

Eli has no choice but to remain still in abject terror as multiple surreal sensations come upon him in near tandem. He feels several pinpricks all over his body, all beneath the surface of his new “peripherals”. They’re followed by a distinct numbing sensation all throughout the concealed parts of his body, including his face. Though his breathing remains frantic, he soon finds himself unable to even attempt to emote or vocalize at all. The rest of his body still has feeling, however. How strange... why would they only commit halfway? Not that he’s in a state of mind for such ponderings. Especially not as something still stranger comes upon him. 

All of a sudden, the pitch darkness of the visor gives way to something entirely different: some sort of internal screen, dominating his entire field of view. He can’t turn his view or focus on any one part of it; it’s really just sensory input wired straight to his brain whether he wants it or not. As for what that screen displays... it seems to be a simple modular background, of the sort you’d see on a freshly booted computer. It takes him a moment to realize it has the same general aesthetic and color scheme as the ‘Xipu’s’ establishment.

For a few seconds it’s nothing but that ominous, empty landscape... then, it becomes partially transparent, allowing him a limited view of his surroundings. At least he feels slightly less helpless as a result… until something appears dead center in his vision. An empty progress bar, with accompanying text above that reads “please wait...”, and below it “0%”. It doesn’t take a tech genius to understand what that could mean. 

In an instant, his body is wracked with the most bizarre sensation he’s ever felt! Some sort of jolt runs through his nerves, causing his muscles to spasm wildly within the machine’s grasp. The jolt is followed by a sort of rippling feeling, like silk being brushed across his skin… it’s very subtle at first, but very quickly ramps up in intensity. Is the room getting warmer…? No, he’s being covered in something. Or rather, something’s growing out of him. It’s fur! Everywhere his skin isn’t concealed by the foreboding steel, short dark-gray fur asserts itself. What could this possibly mean?

The progress bar in his vision slowly crawls forward; 20%, 30%, 40%… it seems to signify the progress of whatever bizarre changes are coming upon him. His mouth and throat remain completely silenced, leaving him with no way to protest beyond struggling futilely against the metal clamps holding him in place. He feels so helpless, powerless as more and more change wracks his body. Pressure mounts against various points in his body, building to a climax, until…

SNAP! CRACK! His legs suddenly convulse and shudder as the bone underneath crunches under the duress. He would’ve collapsed if the machinery weren’t holding him steady. What truly unsettles him is that he felt no pain… only the vague feeling of change as his legs gradually reknit themselves in a digitigrade shape. It feels so strange, so alien… 60%, 70%, 80%.

Eli then feels multiple pinpoints of pressure in his fingers and toes… until they all burst in near tandem, growing into long, thick animal-like claws. A similar feeling then seizes upon his ears, which proceed to swell and morph into far more pronounced, pointy, fluffy ears… again, distinctly animal-like. Why would they make him both a machine and an animal? It doesn’t make sense to him… but he’s not in much of a position to argue. Especially as a far stronger point of pressure manifests in his abdomen, and the slow, painstaking process of his spine extending and forming a big fluffy tail takes place. Yet, still no pain… only mild to severe discomfort.

Finally, the bar reaches 100%, and the changes cease. Eli fidgets in his restraints, peering helplessly down at his new body, and unable to react to it in any meaningful capacity. He’s unrecognizable now… human skin has been completely replaced by an unholy union of thick bestial fur with metal plating and screens. A memory tugs at the back of his head… a fictional creature he’s glimpsed in the deep bowels of the internet. Protogens, they were called. Not so fictional anymore, by the looks of it!

“PHYSICAL CONVERSION COMPLETE. BOOTING UP MAINFRAME. PLEASE WAIT…”

A soft hum emanates from the visor… and then its display lights up. He can’t see it, of course… but somehow he’s intimately aware of what’s projected on it. A face with a jagged mouth and somewhat vacant eyes, comprised of soft blue lights; a somewhat crude resemblance of physical facial features. The eyes and mouth open wide, responding to his fear and confusion… serving as his actual face. This is so surreal! But the machine isn’t interested in giving him time to get acclimated to his new form. 

Before he can react, a few appendages lower a set of wires, which are swiftly driven into a host of well-concealed ports on the sides of his visor. Immediately his body goes limp, and his vision of the outside world is cut off once again. Once again, the bar sits at 0%. What more could they do…?

“MENTAL CONVERSION INITIATED.”

The instant the bar begins to crawl forward, his display abruptly fills with a host of brilliant, mesmerizing colors and patterns… swirling and convulsing in unpredictable ways instantly commanding his attention… not that he can look away. His terror spikes upon the realization of what’s being done to him, then gradually dies back down as his mind is swept up by the tide. So hard to think… just watch… and stare… 

Ever so gradually, his fear and consternation diminishes, and feelings of calm and comfort rise up in their place. The oddest thing is how… linear the process feels. Like his emotions are dials that are slowly being turned at a steady rate… and, well, perhaps that’s not far from the truth. They literally have wires hooked up to his brain, after all… he makes this observation quite casually, when under normal circumstances such ponderings would’ve spooked him to the core. His mind isn’t even capable of resistance at this point. It just sits back and lets the computer take the wheel. 

Words begin to sequentially manifest in the midst of the hypnotic display: “Serve. Obey. Submit. Comply.” They immediately sink into his mind, dominating his thoughts. They are a command… and commands are meant to be obeyed. So, he obeys. The words appear again, and again, and again, reinforcing themselves in his mind. They pick up speed, blinking in and out of sight in quarter second intervals, and Eli still manages to keep up. Then they become faster, and still faster… soon outpacing what a normal mind could follow. Yet Eli keeps up. He processes each iteration of each word, and redoubles its commitment to his memory. His mind is now moving incredibly fast, without any sign of fatigue. No mistakes, no wavering… perfectly processing each word. Serve. Obey. Submit. Comply. Serve obey submit comply serve obey submit comply 
serveobeysubmitcomplyserveobeysubmitcomplyserveobeysubmitcomply…

He reaches 10 words per second. Then 100… then 1000… then 10000. What he’s doing now can hardly be described as thinking… but rather, processing. Computing. Just like, well… a computer. His mind is being computerized. It’s amazing how much faster the process can go when simplifications are made… he dwell on what he’s processing, either. No second-guessing, no errors, no corrections. Only cold, calculated, unquestioning efficiency. A million deliberate, concentrated thoughts per second now, all dedicated to the pursuit of complete and total obedience. 30%. 40%. 50%. 

The commands then begin to deviate from the simple pattern, offering more complex thoughts. A good drone needs thoughts of more than straightforward obedience in order to fulfill its purpose, after all. Protect the establishment. Promote the establishment. Run the establishment. Protect Master Pixus. Perform whatever functions Master Pixus requests. Detain troublemakers. Convert repeat offenders. Convert upon command from Master Pixus. Abandon identity. Never exhibit free will. And above all… Serve, obey, submit, comply. 

All negative emotions, including fear, have long since reached zero, and have been permanently locked in that position. Drones have no use for such things, of course. Positive emotions, however… they’re quite handy for keeping drones motivated, loyal, and most importantly, obedient. Not to mention feelings of pleasure… that can easily be arranged, too. Pixus is a practical master… why deny an additional security measure with no immediate downside? True to that philosophy, Eli’s capacity for joy, comfort, confidence, loyalty are all greatly enhanced, and all are programmed to increase in accordance to the security and success of Master Pixus’s establishment, as well as proximity with Pixus herself, and praise received from her. Logic, emotion and instinct all unite in perfect agreement: the only acceptable existence is one completely and utterly devoted to Master Pixus and her whims. 

Eli’s identity and personality crumble completely; even his name is lost to forgetfulness. Every last thought he’ll ever need to think is pumped into his mind several thousand times over. He remains completely enraptured by the hypnotic display, allowing it a direct canal into his thoughts so that they can be shaped and redirected at a moment’s notice. The way things should be. 

“MENTAL CONVERSION SUCCESSFUL. FINALIZING… ADDITIONAL MODIFICATION REQUESTED. IMPLEMENTING. PLEASE WAIT…”

That’s when the drone begins to feel something truly strange… beneath the metal plating that now shapes his upper torso, where there should be no skin left to feel with, there’s an incongruent tingling sensation. Then a distinct pulling, as the chest plate begins to bulge and expand slightly, in a distinct imitation of… boobs? As the brand new features assert themselves, he begins to feel a distinct, profound change taking place in his brain chemistry as well… testosterone goes down, estrogen goes up. The “he” is, in fact, becoming a she. Before she knows it, every trace of having been male has been erased entirely!

MODIFICATION COMPLETE. CONVERSION FINALIZED. ASSIGNING ID: P50T-348. ACTIVATING P50T-348.

The wires pop loose, and with a soft jolt, the newly converted protogen boots back up, standing up straight on its bowed legs. The visor comes to life once again, and this time, the projected eyes and mouth immediately form into a cheerful, perky smile. With her newly implemented instincts, she taps into her built-in voice module, and draws from an exhaustive list of prerecorded phrases and words. Her voice is rather high pitched, intoned like a human voice yet choppy and heavily filtered like a robot. “Unit P50T-348 has been successfully converted. It is ready to serve!”

Before the fresh convert stands the impish little feline employee with a satisfied smirk on her face… no, not just any employee. P50T-348’s sensors immediately identify her as none other than Master Pixus, the brains of the whole establishment. The human that once stood there may have been rather off-put, having never expected her to be so… cunning. But in her new form… well, there’s not much use in thinking at all anymore really, is there?~

“Have you received your directives, drone?” Pixus chirps, with the same levity with which she’d congratulated her for winning a fabulous, exclusive opportunity mere minutes prior.

The proto’s projected eyes “close” in a gesture of unmistakable joy, even though she can still see. “Affirmative, Master. P50T-348 has downloaded and processed all necessary directives. It can now perform all necessary tasks unsupervised. Supervision is recommended for the first 2-3 hours of operation, however, so that any residual bugs or imperfections may be identified and remedied in a timely manner!”

None of that statement had been created within the protogen’s conscious thoughts, of course; it was nothing more than a script that she was obligated to recite as soon as she became operable. This would be the new way of things for the fortunate drone… no thoughts, no second-guessing, no meddlesome introspection or identity. Only steadfast obedience and compliance. She is now the eternal property of Master Pixus, as well as the establishment of ‘Xipu’s’ Games of the Future. 

“Wonderful, wonderful~ It would appear that given the resounding success of this trial, it only makes sense to speed up our timetables a tad, hm?” She shifts into a much more slow, deliberate and crystal-clear drawl: “Manual command, full override: you will design, print out, and distribute 100 flyers throughout the establishment and general vicinity. They will conform to the trademark Xipu’s aesthetic, and will advertise a cutting edge new product: Project Proto. They will state that anyone who purchases 100$ or more of our products will earn themselves a free trial of this mysterious new console! Acknowledge command~”

“Command acknowledged and received! Thank you, Master Pixus!” P50T-348 trots off of the conversion platform toward the printer room, despite never having familiarized herself with the building layout… not physically, anyway. There’s an unmistakeable skip in the eager drone’s step as she sets off to do her Master’s bidding… and show off this breaking new sensation-to-be in the world of gaming.